


Losing It All

by Rizobact



Series: Festival of the Five [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Festival of the FIve, Lockdown isn't very nice, M/M, brief mention of noncon, creepy evil character thinks creepy evil thoughts, stalker character, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizobact/pseuds/Rizobact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written in response to a writing challenge: choose a scene from a fanfic you’ve written, and re-write it from the point of view of another of the characters present.</p><p>I picked the final confrontation from my story <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4583418/chapters/10439841">Winner Takes All</a> between Lockdown and Jazz, which was originally from Jazz's perspective. All of the dialogue is directly from the original; nothing was added, changed, or removed, just reframed in a new context to show Lockdown's side of the story (which, by the way, isn't very nice. Because he's not very nice).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing It All

**Author's Note:**

> The original scene appears toward the end of [chapter 9](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4583418/chapters/11414614); if you haven't read at least that far, this contains spoilers and probably won't make much sense.

With every step he took, the towering resentment that had been building throughout the entire course of the race came closer and closer to spilling over. Lockdown let his footsteps ring against the floor, making no effort to muffle his growling engine as he crossed the threshold into the final stage of the Challenge. He was done with stealth, done with being quiet, done with being  _patient_. Jazz had somehow managed to do better than he’d thought possible and that trick he’d pulled singing the crystal down on top him had been awfully clever. It had even done some damage – the stiff joint in his knee, dented plating along his back, and the occasional spark from his shoulder were evidence of that. But the hunt ended now, and for daring to jeopardize all he’d worked so hard to achieve with Prowl, Lockdown was going to make Jazz hurt before he finished it.  


That had been the entire purpose of clearing the course before coming after Jazz, after all. He couldn’t very well have someone else costing him his victory while he was teaching the little pest his lesson! It had taken longer than he’d anticipated though, which only contributed to his anger. He had the layout of the course and a file on every mech detailing their strengths and weaknesses, for Primus’ sake! It should have been simple to eliminate them all before the end of the crystal maze. The only mech he didn’t have a complete file on was Jazz himself; he hadn’t been expecting him to enter the race, and the partial data he had was proving to be woefully inadequate. His engine revved fitfully as a spark from his shoulder flew up to burn out against his face.  _Slagging pitspawn!_  
  
The plan had been to corner the brat in the maze after finishing off the others so he could really take his time savoring the kill, but now he’d have to put a bit of a rush on things. He’d also have to forgo some of the more interesting ideas he’d had in mind as well, since there was no way to disable all of the live coverage in this space. Using the crystal to blind the cameras would have afforded him a great deal more freedom to get creative, and he’d been looking forward to it. Bumping off an opponent might be permitted under the rules of Adaptus’ Challenge, but prolonged torture wasn’t.  
  
_Not that they’d have been able to prove anything of the sort happened by the time I was done with you,_  Lockdown thought coldly.  _But even though you got lucky enough to escape the worst of what I had in store for you, it won’t be enough to save you._  
  
He swept the chamber with a quick scan, spotting Jazz’s tiny frame some distance above him within seconds, scorched white and silver standing out starkly against the dark industrial grays and browns surrounding them. Lockdown’s targeting systems engaged, sending a thrill sizzling through his frame as his focus narrowed to his prey. "End of the line, little mech!" he called out, assessing his options for reaching him. “Time to put an end to your meddling and interference. You should never have put yourself in my way!"  
  
"And you should've left well enough alone!" The cocky fragger shot back, not even turning around. He just kept going, though his movements were no longer as smooth and fluid as they had been earlier. It looked like the electrical storm had done some damage. Lockdown felt a grim satisfaction at that as his own injuries throbbed and he grinned at the memory. The entertainer’s screams as the lightning seared his plating had been almost musical, and Lockdown wanted to hear them again.  
  
“Now that sounds like the kind of good advice you might have been smart to take yourself!" he taunted as he stalked forward. "If you'd left Prowl alone I never would have had to do this to you," he said.  
  
Jazz stiffened as though he had been physically struck, though impressively he kept moving. "You're a complete glitch, you know that? Get it through your thick plating and frag off somewhere you're wanted! Prowl has zero interest in ever being with you!" He began a scrabbling run across a series of swinging containers, balance dangerously close to failing. "Not my fault you wasted your time, mech!"  
  
“No?” Lockdown was torn between laughter and fury. Wasted time? Prowl wasn’t a waste of time, Prowl was an  _investment_ , and there was no way he was going to let Jazz ruin it for him. "Well too bad, I'm taking it out on you anyway.” And it was his fault – if it weren’t for Jazz, Prowl would have seen reason and stopped resisting him, instead of holding out for this piece of shareware! “You aren't good enough for Prowl - that mech's got real talent in that processor of his, and with a little training he'll be the best partner I could ever want!"  
  
"I knew it! You just want him to use him, to turn him into some kind of tool!" Jazz’s words wavered between accusation and injury.   
  
"That mech is no tool." Lockdown corrected, frustrated that the mech didn’t seem to comprehend Prowl’s true potential. It quickened his spark to think of all that computational ability and physical skill being his to command in the field – to call him a tool was an understatement, an insult! "He's a weapon!"  
  
That finally stopped the entertainer cold, and at last he whipped around to face him. "Prowl is a mech! Not an upgrade for your arsenal! You and Barricade treating him like that has the poor mech convinced that's all he's good for! He's got his own feelings and interests and a right to both, but he acts like he's not allowed to want anything for himself because of you!"  
  
_What Prowl_  wanted  _was to optimize himself! To maximize his efficiency and hone his skill, and that’s what I’m going to do for him!_  His anger rose as he raised his arm and fired his grappling hook at the wall just above Jazz, who foolishly stood his ground as Lockdown reeled in the cable to land heavily on the casing of the large industrial fan as well.  _He didn’t want anything foolish and sentimental until you, and you’ve contaminated his perfect logic with feelings!_  
  
Lockdown ignored the grating, scraping sound of the blades against the sides where the casing warped inward, all his attention instead focused on the mech in front of him. "You've got no idea, do you?" He laughed darkly. "Prowl has something he wants all right, but it doesn't fit into my plans."  
  
"Yeah, wanting to be rid of you does kinda get in the way of that 'perfect partner' scheme you're workin' on. Poor you."  
  
"Poor you," he countered. "I might've been able to let you live after teaching you a lesson if that were true. But you're right, I can't have Prowl wanting things for himself. And if you're still around, he'll keep wanting."  
  
He watched as Jazz opened his mouth to respond and then just stood there gaping as the words fully registered. “Wanting...me?" The question was so plaintively hopeful that Lockdown wanted to laugh at him for being so vulnerable and naïve.  
  
"See? I can be nice!” He said. At least if he couldn’t really draw out the kill he could torment him with that first before he destroyed him. He snapped his arm forward and grabbed Jazz by the throat, that pretty gaping mouth falling open even wider as he lifted him up to eye level. He squeezed until he could feel his vocalizer beneath the cables, but held off on crushing it just yet. He still wanted those screams. "You can die happy now." He drew back his hook to land the first strike.  
  
What happened next came as a complete shock to him. Somehow Jazz was able to contort his lithe frame in his hold to rake up a handful of the razor sharp crystal shards stuck in his own plating and thrust them into Lockdown’s shoulder. The fragments slicing into the circuits and hydraulic fluid lines in the already damaged joint were agonizing and Lockdown howled in pain. He felt a magnetic surge in the hand closed around Jazz’s neck but didn’t realize his grip had faltered until after the kick connected with his chassis and Jazz broke free.   
  
He hadn’t heard the sound of shearing metal beneath him either, and the surface below them crumbling away caught him off-guard. Tumbling backwards he saw Jazz throw himself clear of the wreckage to slam gracelessly down onto one of the broad motorized arms as it passed by, laying there like a stunned scraplet as it carried him out of Lockdown’s reach once again.  
  
Cursing, he whipped his grappling hook around again and fired, grateful for the integrated system which not only allowed him to bring the tool onto the course in the first place, but also allowed him to fire it without the use of his hands. The magnetic repulsor blast that made his fingers suddenly loosen left the digits tingling and non-responsive, though the effect was only temporary. He shook the numbed appendage viciously as he landed on one of the hanging grates, slamming it against the surface to force the circuitry to reset faster.  
  
Motility restored at last, he reached up to twist off the leaking line in his shoulder and rip out the offending piece of continually sparking machinery, engaging his override protocols so that he could move his arm again. It wasn’t a perfect fix by any means, but it was enough that he could use it for now and Lockdown was beyond caring about anything else.  _That’s the last time you escape from me! The LAST!_  
  
His optics tracked the moving arm Jazz had landed on as it reached the end of its long path where it slowed to a stop and then reversed over a large stasis generator, its frame suspended over a series of large containers that passed beneath it on their way into a large processing unit. Jazz was no longer lying where he’d initially fallen on top of it, but there was no way the little glitch could have recovered quickly enough to have gotten far.  
  
_He may have shorted my fingers with those fancy magnets of his, but he’ll have fried his gyros worse._  Lockdown’s grin was feral as he stalked up to the edge of the metal grille, deciding that for all the trouble they had caused him he was going to take those magnets and add that mod to his collection of trophies and upgrades. Tearing out the whole assembly and uprooting all the connective wiring would me messy – easier just to cut off his hands, really – but it would be excruciating for Jazz to feel the systems being pulled out by the roots as Lockdown took the mods for himself. He could think of all kinds of uses he could put those magnets to once he’d ripped them from Jazz’s hands, and one in particular caused a hungry coil of lust to curl through his circuits.  
  
_You should thank me for choosing those,_  Lockdown thought with wicked satisfaction.  _That way, you’ll get to vicariously put your hands on Prowl after all._  His engine revved powerfully as he imagined what careful application of those magnets would do to the black and white Praxian. Prowl’s doorwings would tremble as he dragged them along their edges, he’d flinch as he teased at the seams of his chest plates, then finally he would give in and beg as he laid them over his panel and pulsed the magnetic field slowly and powerfully, sending shockwaves of sensation through his array and forcing pleasure to arc through his frame until he shattered from it, completely at his mercy.  
  
With a calculated leap Lockdown sailed through the air and came down in a partial crouch on the motorized arm as it returned to its starting position, remaining hunched over until it had finished reversing to avoid losing his balance. Now at close range his sensors picked up Jazz’s form clinging to the underside of it, clearly hoping in vain that Lockdown wouldn’t be able to locate him where he was just a few meters away.  
  
A powerful, hateful rage burned inside Lockdown. The thought that this small, insignificant mech had almost cost him everything he’d been working so hard for over the last decade flooded his processor and the straining hold he’d been keeping on his temper snapped as he stood and pain lanced down his arm from his shoulder and up from his twisted knee. The little menace! The fool! How dare he think he could hide? How dare he think he even had a chance of winning! How could he injure a mech like Lockdown and repeatedly make a fool of him and think that Prowl was in any way his?  _Prowl is MINE!_  
  
Menace and deadly intent radiated through his field and Lockdown knew the tiny dancer could feel it buffeting him through the paltry metal that was all that separated him from his death. Lockdown growled, done trying to contain himself. "You'll pay for that, Jazz!" He let his dark anticipation dominate his words. "You're going to wish you'd let yourself fall to your death!"   
  
All thoughts of where they were and who might be watching were gone. The only thing that mattered now was not letting Jazz get away again and making him feel every injury he’d inflicted on him and then some. "I'm going to pin you to the wall and rip you apart," he ground out, taking a step forward toward the end of the arm.  
  
_One._  
  
"There are an awful lot of nonessential components you can live without that are incredibly painful when removed incorrectly. I'm looking forward to seeing how many you can lose before you lose consciousness as well!"  _Starting with those magnets!_  
  
_Two._  
  
"They send medics in to recover the frames of the deceased. It's going to take them hours to pick up your pieces, and there won't be enough of you left to recognize even after they're done!"  
  
_Three!_  
  
Lockdown lunged, reaching beneath the arm to wrench Jazz around by his helm. Triumph surged through him as he felt his fingers find purchase around an audial horn as he pulled him to the side and tilted his neck harshly, straining the partially crushed cabling and sliding the point of his hook up along his cheek. He felt a small, ineffectual hand claw at his ankle as he clenched down, shattering the horn in his hand, letting his hook come to rest just inside Jazz’s mouth as that liquid voice finally screamed again for him.  
  
It was the sweetest song he’d ever heard him sing. Fitting it should be his last. Lockdown tilted the black helm to force the tip of his hook through Jazz’s glossa, pinning it down as energon bubbled up and spilled over his lips and back down his throat. "Any last words?" Lockdown asked mockingly, worrying the hook ever so slightly deeper. Jazz clung to both Lockdown’s ankle and the underside of the arm he was still hanging from for all he was worth as he convulsed and gagged, but no sound emerged beyond a pitiful whine. "Didn't think so."  
  
Jerking it free with another spurt of energon and an accompanying cry from Jazz, Lockdown moved his hook back again so he could yank the mech up over the edge and finish him. But something was wrong! The world shifted the wrong way, his frame pitching forward rather than back as Jazz pulled with a strength and leverage Lockdown didn’t realize he possessed. Lockdown found himself suddenly hanging in empty air, held up only by the grip he had on Jazz’s helm and the magnetic grip Jazz had on the metal above them both.  
  
He looked up into Jazz’s face, the blue band of his visor brightening as it picked up and reflected light from an external source as the arm continued its inexorable swing. Lockdown felt his spark slow in horror as he realized what it was coming from and the hum of the stasis field penetrated his audials.  _No. No! NO!!_  
  
The normally talkative mech looked down at him, now completely silent. The corners of his mouth dripped energon as his lips parted in a subtly vicious smile, the jagged grin glinting in the light of the stasis field as he blithely waved goodbye. Jazz jabbed the crystal-laden fingers of his free hand into Lockdown's wrist by his helm, and there was nothing he could do to keep his fist from opening. Falling, the stillness of stasis lock swept up his frame in a wave as he passed through the field, and Lockdown barely felt himself hit the bottom of the bin below. He fought to scream, but the total paralysis robbed him of the ability even as his disbelief and rage left him with no articulate words to say. All he could do was watch Jazz disappear from sight over the edge of the container as it shuddered forward along its track, carrying him away like scrap to the smelter, while the undeserving upstart went on to claim Lockdown’s prize.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *squeeeeee!* [Chaoswolf12](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaoswolf12/pseuds/Chaoswolf12) drew a fantastic piece of art for this scene [here](http://chaoswolf12.tumblr.com/post/133646935258/ever-since-i-read-this-scene-in-winner-takes-all). Go look at it. I keep looking at it. *stares* Thank you again! It's gorgeous!! <3 <3 <3


End file.
